


Never Did I Ever Think This Would Happen.

by Penryn3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys Kissing, Bullying, Drinking Games, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Language, Frenemies, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Never Have I Ever, Non-Consensual Drug Use, POV Harry Potter, Self-Discovery, Snogging, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vertiaserum, forced confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:29:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penryn3/pseuds/Penryn3
Summary: Harry wasn't sure he liked this game.





	Never Did I Ever Think This Would Happen.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I make no money from the writing/publishing of this story. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.

The room was spinning, the circle of people in front of Harry twirling round and round like a carousal; laughter loud and colours bright. The bottle on the floor between them all was spinning too, the firewhiskey inside never emptying despite how many fumbling hands turned it round.

It was Saturday night and they were in the eighth year common room. Not many of them had returned to Hogwarts this year, and the few that had were desperately trying to return their lives to normal. At least, as normal as one could be after a war. You couldn’t fail to notice the tension that sat just under the surface of the smiles and laughter, but they were trying.

It had become a habit in the last few months. Hermione, Parvati and Pansy called it 'house unity bonding'. Harry called it get rip-roaring drunk until they all forgot they didn't like each other. Whatever it was, it seemed to be working. The eighth years had built precarious friendships, the other houses mingling with the Slytherins in a way that could be considered friendly, if not completely comfortable.  


But then, the alcohol helped with that. Every week they picked a different drinking game. They took turns, mixing a wide range of muggle and wizarding games, teaching each other and having fun. Hannah had picked tonight’s, a game Harry had not heard of called Never Have I Ever. Apparently the idea was to think of thing (any ‘thing’ apparently), and anybody who had done that particular ‘thing’ had to take a shot. Harry wasn't sure he liked the game, it made the promiscuous drunk and the careful subdued. The bottle had also been laced with fucking vertiserum. Something Pansy had neglected to tell everybody until after they had each taken a shot. He didn't know if he liked admitting to things he had done. He thought of a few things earlier in the game that he had admitted to _not_ doing and thought maybe he liked that even less. 

But the game was played with shots and Harry liked the watch people drink them. He felt you could tell a lot about a person from the way they took a shot of firewhiskey. Seamus threw his back with abandon, Hermione whilst holding her nose and Ron, ever messy, barley managed to shot his without drops collecting at the corners of his mouth to slide down his chin. Parvati always giggled both before and after whilst Neville eyed his alcohol with trepidation every time he had to raise the glass to his lips.

The Slytherins seemed by far the most practiced. Blaise drank heartily, Theo barley made a face and Pansy drank hers as if it were water rather than a whisky that burned all the way down. And Malfoy...well, Harry had a hard time not watching Malfoy drink whiskey. Like the other Slytherins, it was a practiced motion, the shot glass dangling loose and elegant from those long thin fingers. It was almost lazy, the way he raised the glass to his lips, and Harrys eyes liked to watch the movement of Malfoys throat as he swallowed it down. He wasn't sure why, it wasn't something he wanted to examine too closely and right now he was far too drunk to care.

Blaise was still cackling madly when his turn came around. The last Never Have I Ever had involved a shame faced Seamus taking a shot for having had inappropriate thoughts about McGonagall and the eighth years were all tipsy enough that the laughter had turned hysterical.

"Pay attention to meeee!" Blaise cried, laughing. Everyone pulled themselves together, some pressing hands to their mouths to stifle their laughter. Pansy did her best to look dignified, whilst barley holding in her sniggering.

"Yes, Blaise Darling?"

Blaise hiccupped, and swayed in Malfoy's direction. "This one's for you buddy!" he said, swinging up his shot glass in a sloppy toast, sloshing golden liquid down the sides.

Malfoy smirked, looking at Blaise with a fond expression. "You're pissed Blaise."

"Noooooo I'm not! This is for you! Because you were always a bit funny about them you know.." he trailed off, a thoughtful knowing look on his face as he leaned forward to peer at Malfoy's face.

Malfoy raised a blonde eyebrow. "Them? What are you talking about you pissed bastard?" he asked, amused and patronizing.

"Please Draco, you know what I'm saying, the delightful Golden Trio of course!" He said, flinging an arm in Harry, Ron and Hermione’s direction. Harry could see Hermione and Ron sending him befuddled looks from the corner of his eye. Harry however, was focused on Malfoy, or more importantly, on the way that the colour had just completely drained from Malfoy's face.

Well, _that_ was interesting.

"What are you talking about Blaise? I think you've had a bit too much to drink, maybe it's bedtime for you old boy." Malfoy scoffed, leaning back on his hands and giving Blaise a one sided grin. The posture oozed nonchalance but Harry couldn’t help but notice the way his shoulders had tensed and the lines that had appeared to crease his forehead.

Blaise's face lit up, like he had just had his thought confirmed. He raised his shot glass in the air gleefully and said "Never have I ever had a sexual fantasy about Hermione Granger!" he crooned loudly, staring at Malfoy.

Malfoy relaxed almost instantly and he smiled lazily at Blaise, his shot glass sitting untouched in front of him. Blaise frowned, before bringing his own glass to his full lips and swallowing. 

Ron, Neville, Dean and to Harry's surprise, Luna, all drank their shot. Harry watched them all, amused, but felt no compulsion to reach for his own glass. Hermione flushed a deep beet red, but otherwise looked pleased.

"Ohh!" Pansy cried, looking delighted, "I like this game! Never have I ever -"

"Pansy." Malfoy's voice sounded like a warning.

Pansy ignored him. " - sexually fantasized about Ron Weasley!"

Giggles burst forth throughout the circle and only Hermione took her shot, but the adoration that lit up Ron's face as he watched her drink made Harry's heart ache. Hermione met Ron's gaze and blushed again, a small smile upturning the corners of her pretty mouth. 

Theo Nott gave a loud snort. "As sweet and touching as this all is, I don't think it's quite what we were after." He looked at Blaise and the two boys smirked at each other. Harry noticed that Blaise didn't appear half as drunk as he had moments before. What was going on?

"Theo," Draco said, voice low. “Please.” He didn’t look amused anymore. He looked desperate; the line of his mouth so tight that it looked like his lips would crack.

"Oh?" Theo eyes flashed, smiling with too many teeth. "So we were right?"

"Can someone please explain what the bloody hell is going on?” Ron snapped.

Harry was staring at the power play happening on the other side of the circle. His stomach dropped, piecing it all together - they couldn’t mean – surly not…

Theo held up his shot triumphantly and Malfoy wilted in on himself.

“Never have I ever sexually fantasized about Harry Potter,” Theo said, before putting his full shot back down on the floor.

To Harry’s shock, Ginny, Luna, Parvati, Hannah and Seamus all took their shot without fuss. But Theo’s attention was on Malfoys ghost white face. So was Blaise’s. Both of their expressions were sharp and greedy, all pretense of drunkenness gone. Harry realized how very Slytherin it all was. The question about Hermione had been a ruse – to lull Malfoy into a false sense of safety before they pounced.

Blaise and Theo exchanged one more cattish look before they both leaned forward, eager to watch Draco Malfoy fall. Harry felt sick; who needed enemies when you had friends like these? 

Malfoy looked just as sick as Harry felt but he sat unmoving, and Harry thought for a second that the two Slytherin boys had had it wrong. But the tendons in Malfoys neck were strained tight, standing out against his skin like whipcord. As they watched, his right arm began to shake, and the trembling quickly overtook his whole body. It looked like Malfoy was resisting the compulsion with every fiber of his being; but Vertiserum doesn’t recognize the unwilling. Malfoys hand shot out – grabbing his shot glass in a vice-like grip before pouring the fire hot liquid down his throat. He slammed the glass back down, gaze determinedly on the floor.

Then…silence. 

Harry’s stomach was fluttering, heart galloping inside his chest, his brain trying to catch up with what had just happened. Nobody said anything for what felt like the longest moment of Harry’s life. Then Parvati’s voice floated across the room–

“Never have I ever wanted to kiss Harry Potter.” She giggled. Several glasses went to their owners mouths but the only person everyone was looking at was Malfoy. Malfoy let out a pained groan and once again, raised his glass. Shocked murmurs were racing around the students and then the game was on, everybody tripping over the words they couldn’t get out fast enough.

“Never have I ever wanted a hand job from Harry Potter.”  
“Never have I ever wanted Harry Potter to blow me.”  
“Never have I ever wanted Harry Potter’s cock in my mouth.”  
“Never have I ever imagined Harry Potter showering.”  
“Never have I ever had a wet dream about Harry Potter.” 

The whole circle picked up the game – moving so fast that Malfoy could barely draw in a breath before the next shot was forced to his lips. His chest was heaving up and down like he had been running and Harry was speechless. He wanted to stop this. To stop the jeering roar of his housemates that shattered the friendly atmosphere and called for blood. But his lips wouldn’t move – he could only watch in horror as Malfoy drank and drank and then drank some more.

“Never have I ever wanted to fuck Harry Potter.”  


“Never have I ever wanted Harry Potter to fuck _me_.” Padma shouted shrilly.

Malfoy broke. He swallowed, throat convulsing around the liquid before slumping face first over his knees to the ground – gasping in ragged breaths as he pressed his forehead to the floor. He thumped his fist to the ground next to his head, arms trembling as his shoulders heaved.

Harry finally found his voice.

“That’s enough!” – Gods, he’d had enough.

But the group wasn’t even paying attention to him, they were all looking expectantly at Hermione, whose turn it was to rip off another strip.

Fucking vultures.

Harry found Hermione’s gaze and looked at her beseechingly. “Hermione, don’t. Please.” But Hermione just shook her head slightly and raised her glass.

“Never have I ever been _in love_ with Harry Potter.” She said softly and lowered her glass.

Malfoy let out a noise that sounded like a sob, dragging himself up, lifting the glass and pressing it to his lips, drinking it down in one swallow. He slammed the glass down with such force that it shattered in his hand – blood blossoming over the fragmented shards and onto the floor. Malfoys shoulders were shaking, the air going in and out of his lungs in great shuddering gulps. Colour rode high on his cheekbones and his silky hair was hanging low over his eyes, mussed in a way that Harry had never seen it before. Malfoy looked _ruined_. 

The circle was silent, perhaps with the realization that they had taken it too far. Theo reached forward to grasp Malfoy by the shoulder and Malfoy reefed back violently, shrugging him off and vaulting to his feet, staggering a step unsteadily. For the first time since it had started he looked up, his grey eyes blazing as he stared around the circle; though he wouldn’t look at Harry. 

“Are you fucking done?” Malfoy hissed. “Are you all fucking happy now? Did you all get the information you so desperately needed?” The last bit was shot at Theo, who looked down at his feet.

“Is that what you all wanted to hear?” Malfoy continued savagely, mouth twisting into a sneer. “That I wank myself raw to the thought of going on my knees for the Saviors cock? That I get off on the idea of getting fucked by Harry Potter? Well I do. I hope it fucking pleases you all.” Malfoy spat, before turning on his heel and storming out.

*******

Harry found Malfoy in their History of Magic classroom a few floors down. It wasn’t hard to find him, the trail of all that pure blood leading him like breadcrumbs. He was sitting on a desk against the wall, his head leant back against the brick with his eyes closed; bleeding hand hanging casually off to the side where it dripped a steady flow of red onto the floor. Harry shut the door with a soft click. Malfoy's eyes snapped opened but he didn’t move, just stared at Harry with hazy grey eyes through half slitted eyelids. Neither of them spoke for several seconds, before –

“Come to gloat Potter?” 

Harry shook his head. Now that he was here he didn’t actually know what to say. The entirety of his English vocabulary stolen from him by Malfoy's gaze. He shuffled from one foot to the other as Malfoy watched him lazily.

“You didn’t heal your hand,” he blurted out finally. Draco shrugged; a bare lift of his shoulder.

“I can heal it, but I can’t remember the charm to get the glass out – so it seemed rather pointless really. Hardly seems safe in my inebriated state anyhow.”

Harry regarded Malfoy. He didn’t seem all that drunk; Malfoy spoke as clearly and concisely as always, his body relaxed but not swaying. But as Harry studied him, he realized that it wasn’t that Malfoy wasn’t drunk, he was just holding himself together with iron self-control. A flush still painted his high cheekbones a feverish pink and despite the languid way he was sitting, his shoulders were too tense for it to be casual, his breathing too quick to be relaxed.

Malfoys eyes narrowed. “You on the other hand, don’t look half as intoxicated as you did earlier. But then, you didn’t have half as much to drink as I did, did you?” he remarked viciously.

Harry shrugged from his place against the door. “I asked Hermione for a sobriety charm before I came looking for you”.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “I don’t suppose you’d be so kind as to perform one on me?”

Harry half smiled. “I don’t know. I kind of like you like this.”

“Drunk?”

“Honest.”

Draco closed his eyes. “That’s not the drink Potter, that’s Pansy’s idea of a fucking joke running through my veins,” he sighed. “Which reminds me, when can I expect the grilling that’s coming?”

“Grilling?” Harry asked, confused.

“Yes Potter,” Draco said sharply “Are you trying to tell me that I confessed…well, quite a few things in that room, and you aren’t going to ask me about it or I don’t know, hex me, ridicule me…take your pick.”

“No. I have no wish to hex or ridicule you Malfoy. There are a few things I would like to ask you, but I'd rather not do it when you have no choice but to answer me.” Harry shrugged. “I would however, like to help get the glass out of your hand so I can heal it?”  


Malfoy looked surprised. After a moment, he sat up on the desk and nodded.

Harry warily made his way across the room, ignoring the way Draco flinched slightly when he pulled out his wand. He said nothing, just cast a sobriety charm, and watched as his magic washed over Malfoy. He quickly turned away to rummage in Professor Binns desk for a quill to transfigure into tweezers, giving Malfoy time to process what had happened now that he was sober. He imagined it would be quite gut wrenching, once Malfoy didn’t have the alcohol to dull the edges of what he felt. Sure enough, when he turned back, Malfoy looked a little ill, his face aflame and jaw rigid. Still, when Harry walked back over to him he wordlessly held out his hand.

Harry took it gently, whispering an agumenti, to wash away the drying blood. The cut was deep, and Harry slowly began to work out the little slithers of glass embedded in Malfoy's lily white skin. He was trying desperately not to notice how soft his skin was, or how good he smelt when he stood this close, Malfoy's breath ghosting over his cheek. Malfoy sat extremely still, jerking slightly when Harry pulled out a larger piece of glass. Harry glanced up to apologize and almost dropped the tweezers. Malfoy was close, watching Harry intently, a piece of hair falling over one eye.

Harry paused and swallowed; hard. He wanted- gods he didn't even know what he wanted. All he knew was the way Draco Malfoy was looking at him right now made him want to do things. Ridiculous things. Things like kiss that too pouty, too pink mouth that now that Harry had looked away from Malfoys eyes, seemed to be the only thing he could focus on.

"Potter?" 

Harry tore his gaze away from Malfoys lips, flushing when he realized that he had been staring for too long. Harry quickly diverted his attention back to Malfoys hand. His heart was beating a million miles a minute in his chest. He wondered if Malfoy could hear it. 

He let out a breath shakily. _Focus_. 

He pinched the last sliver of glass between the tips of the tweezers and pulled. Harry once again drew his wand and this time Malfoy didn't flinch as Harry murmured the healing spell. When he was done, there was a faint white line running the length of Malfoys palm. Before he could stop himself, Harry slowly ran a fingertip from one end of the line to the other. The other boys breath hitched and Harry looked up again. Malfoy looked pained. 

“Potter...Harry, please don't do this to me,” Malfoy whispered. 

"Do what?" Harry whispered back.

"Look at me like that." he answered brokenly.

"Like what?" Harry asked again.

Malfoy swallowed, looking down and away. 

“Like you want to kiss me.”

"I do want to kiss you," Harry replied truthfully and Malfoy's eyes snapped back to his.

"What? Why?" Malfoys voice hardened. "I'm not a toy Potter." he bit out.

Harry sighed. "I know you're not."

"Then why are you only just coming to this realization now?" 

"I won't lie. Before tonight, I had never thought about it. It didn't seem in the realm of possibility. But then, during the game, they were throwing all those questions at you and I started to picture it, I started to imagine it and I...I.." Here, Harry faltered.

Malfoy didn’t say anything, only watched him and waited. Harry let out a breath.

"I liked the idea ok? And now...now I really would like to kiss you and see if..see if..."'

Harry shrugged helplessly.

Malfoy was looking at him in complete and utter disbelief. If Harry hadn’t been so nervous he probably would have laughed at the deer-in-headlights expression on Malfoys usually controlled face. He was expecting rejection. Even after everything that Malfoy had admitted in the common room, Harry was sure that he would push him away. He was a little startled when Malfoy simply nodded.

Harry stepped forward, a bolt of desire rushing through his body at the way the other boy’s knees parted to let him in. He leaned in, pausing to let a puff of Malfoy's alcohol-sweetened breath ghost over his mouth. He smiled, then closed the distance, bringing their lips together in a soft kiss.

Harry held it only a moment – pulling back and hovering, trying the gauge Malfoy's reaction. Malfoy let out a shaky sigh, bumping his nose softly against Harry's and tilting his mouth back up in an obvious invitation.  


Harry slipped his hand up to the silk soft hair at the base of Malfoys neck and clutched it clumsily with his fingers – using it to pull Malfoy's face back to his. All softness gone, he kissed him frantically. Malfoy stuttered a gasp, his mouth opening, and Harry took the opportunity to kiss him even deeper; causing Malfoy to moan when their tongues touched.

Malfoy's hands were on him then, sliding through Harry's hair and down his jaw, before continuing over his shoulders and down his back. Stroking, touching, _worshipping_ any part of Harry he could reach. All the while Harry was drowning in Malfoys kiss. His mouth was lava hot and their gasps and moans seem overly loud in the stillness of the room. Grasping hands were sliding over Harry's arse to pull him in even more snugly to the apex of Malfoy's thighs. Shivers shoot down Harry's spine when his erection is met with an answering hardness. He pulled back and grinned. Malfoy looked ravaged – lips swollen and eyes bright. 

Malfoy appeared nervous, but it seemed like he was fastidiously trying to cover this fact when he enquires: “Well Potter? What conclusion have you come to after your little experiment?”

Harry reached up and stroked a thumb along Malfoy's sharp cheekbone. "This has always been there hasn't it? I just didn't recognise it for what it was."

Malfoy swallowed, his gaze softening.

"For me it has."

Harry grinned. "Well then, my conclusion is that I have been wasting far too much time fighting with you when I clearly could have been expending that energy with far more enjoyable pastimes. Remind me to thank Parkinson would you? I never thought I’d say that, but I feel like I should pass along my gratitude.” Harry said, smirking.

Malfoy let out a startled sound somewhere between a choke and a laugh. He eyed Harry’s smirking face before rolling his eyes.

“You’re insufferable Potter.” Malfoy murmured with a crooked smile and leant forward to once again capture Harry’s still smiling lips with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
